A Trek Toward Desire
by Alara
Summary: Rated for suggestive themes. Rogue and Remy are sneaking around the mansion alone at night doing their best to avoid Wolverine. What EVER could they be up to?


**A Trek Toward Desire: **

A short, brought to you by Alara by request (behest?) of Eileen B. You can blame her for the inspiring spark of insanity, but the actual details are, however unfortunately, mine-all-mine. :) Reviews muchly appreciated!

Regular-weight typeface is Rogue and Remy, **Bold typeface is Logan's thoughts/actions.** Let me know if it's confusing. This is a one-shot. I think. :) Enjoy!

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"Ssh! Wolverine will hear us!"

"Don' worry so much, _chere._ He's already checked de living room—won't be coming back around."

**The furtive whispers reached Wolverine's sharp hearing, and he paused in his nightly security check of the mansion. The voices were those of Stripes—and that damned Cajun boyfriend of hers. That damned Cajun boyfriend of hers who he didn't trust much. _Especially_ since Rogue had gotten control over her powers, and now could be touched, albeit for short periods of time. With the Cajun, even a short period of time could be ruinous—Wolverine'd seen his type before.**

"How do you know? He could come back."

"_Non—_been mapping out his route the past several weeks to prepare for tonight, _cherie._ De timing's perfect, we won't be interrupted. We've got all night—I know you've been wanting to do this for a long time."

"Not as long as you have, I bet. But, yeah. Not exactly something 'untouchable Rogue' could do openly, it'd ruin the persona."

Was that Rogue—_flirting?_

"I_ have_ been wanting to do this for a long time, yes. But only with you. I'm thankful to be able to share dis wit' you, _cherie._ Don't think any o' de ot'ers would appreciate it as much as you will."

"I sure hope you're right, and it _is_ as good four or eight hours in as it is in the beginning."

"Oh, it is, trust me."

The sound of two bodies hitting the couch reverberated softly. Then: "So, do you wanna start this?"

**_That good-for-nothing Cajun._ Logan started to make his way to the living room. Unfortunately for him, he was across the mansion (his hearing was, unfortunately at times, _that_ sensitive, when he put his mind to it). **

"In a minute, _chere. _Here, go put this in de microwave—for us both to enjoy. Keep our energy up for the duration."

"Sure. Be right back." A rustle moved to the kitchen, followed by muffled sounds from the microwave. Then, a few minutes later, the machine emitted a soft beep, and Rogue's footsteps re-entered the living room.

"Careful, Cajun, I don't want to spill this on you—it's hot."

"Take your time, we've got all night, _ma cherie_. No need to rush into t'ings."

**'_No need to rush_,' Logan mocked in his head. _What the hell do you call this, Gumbo?_ He picked up his pace even more. **

Another pause. "So, do you want to take it out, or should I?"

**_Damnit! Still a distance to go…_**

"So eager, _chere?_ One would think you were a fanatic, or something." His voice was low, teasing. His words were met with a light _thwack_ on the shoulder.

"Please… don't tease me. Not about this. That happens too much already—and you know it."

"I do. All right. Here." The sound of a zipper unzipping was met with a gasp from Rogue.

"Oh, my _God!_ It's huge. You weren't kidding, it's almost exhaustively—obsessively—complete." Her voice grew almost timid. "Can I hold it? Just for a minute, so I can brag that I have. I'll never get the chance again."

**_Stripes, when did you become one of his floozies?_ Come to your senses, girl, and get the hell out of there! **

"_Non, chere, _you can have dis anytime you want it. Here. Just be careful. I don't know what I would do if it broke, I jus' might die. Took me a long time to get the whole package together, you know?"

"Yeah." Her voice was still awed. "Here, set it on my lap—Oof. I wouldn't have thought it was so heavy."

"Well, t'ink about it. All of _that,_ together in one place—not something you see every day."

"Yeah. Wow. So does your family know about this, know that you have it?"

"_Non._ Dey wouldn't understand—it's not all focused on de Guild, you see."

"Oh." She paused a moment. "So. Should we get started?"

"Hmm… Yeah, looks like we've got everything we need here."

"Just… you know we've got to have everything cleaned up, put away, and _us_ back in our rooms before morning." Rogue said warningly.

"Oh, _absolument._ The others can't watch this. Or, they'd watch a while, but dey wouldn't understand, wouldn't get it. Dey'd t'ink we were a couple of freaks."

"Yeah," she said. "So. Do you want to put it in, or shall I?"

**_What the _hell_, Stripes? I never thought I'd have to save you from yourself! Where did your self-respect go?_**

"Hm. Such a momentous occasion. I say together. Ready? Your hands on one side, mine on de other, how's that suit you?"  
"Suits just fine, Mr. LeBeau." Rogue replied, a slight, flirting, mock-southern-belle tone entering her voice.

**_Damnit, Rogue, don't give him any encouragement… _**

A couple of seconds later Logan heard Rogue say, to his dismay: "Ok. There. It's in. You want to really start now? An all night marathon session, right?"

"Sounds _great._"

**_Gumbo, I'm gonna rip your freakin' gonads out…_**

"Wait—don't touch that yet. You _know_ what we've _got_ to say now, right?" Rogue asked expectantly.

"Wha—oh." His grin was audible in his words. "You want to say it?"

"Both together—as you hit it."

"Right, then. After '_trois'_. _Un… deux… trois!"_

""Engage!"" Their voices chorused.

Logan could take no more, and finally made it to the living room. He burst through the door, claws extended, snarling, eliciting a curse from Remy and a startled shriek from Rogue.

The… _fully clothed…_ Rogue.

Who had just upended a bowl of steaming hot popcorn onto the unfortunate Remy, who nearly crushed the DVD remote in his fist in startlement. A DVD case lay unzipped on the floor, the discs inside carefully arranged and protected, numbered and catalogued.

On the screen, a starscape slowly spiraled by, myriad colored gases floating against the backdrop. Orchestral notes rang out in the room's sudden silence. A voice came from the surround speakers.

"_Space… the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. Its continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no one has gone before!"_

Logan gaped at them. "_You two_ are _Trekkies_!" he exclaimed.

Remy sighed and hid his face against Rogue's shoulder. "Told you, you are de only one Remy can share the complete collection of Star Trek with, _chere._ I told you._"_

Logan started laughing, actually tearing up. He retracted his claws as he wiped his eyes, leaning against the wall. "_Trekkies…_" he gasped. "Of all the people in the mansion, you two would be the _last_ ones I'd have thought to like _Star Trek._ Hahahaha!"

Remy gave him an annoyed glance. "C'mon, _homme,_ not _dat_ weird."

"I'm just relieved… never mind." Logan said. "Well, don't stay up too late… Uh… the force be with you, Stripes." He turned, and left, still chuckling, and terribly grateful the teens' sneaking around was relatively innocent. _And_ that it gave him such lovely blackmail material against them…

Back in the living room, Rogue and Remy exchanged glances, then rolled their eyes. "Maniac," Rogue muttered.

"Jus' don't understand, does he, _chere." _Remy murmured. "Good t'ing he doesn't realize we're playing the drinking game, too." He quirked an eyebrow at her as he dug the flask out from in between the couch cushions.

"Good thing, Cajun." Rogue put her southern belle voice back on. "Now, pass some o' that bourbon to your favorite _femme,_ huh, sugah?"

"Sure t'ing. Hey, dere's Picard! _Mon M'sieu Jean-Luc. _Siddown." He tugged at her belt. "First drink's coming up."

"Sure, sugar." Rogue allowed herself to be pulled back into her former position—sprawled all over Remy, which Logan _would_ have skewered him for. "Good thing Logan's timing sucks."

"Good thing indeed. Now, ssh. We've got a long night ahead."

Rogue smiled, settled against his warmth, and proceeded to enjoy the rest of the night immensely.

There was no trace of popcorn, DVDs, Star Trek, or (especially) bourbon when Logan came down the next morning. In fact, it was _so_ well cleaned up that the pristine condition of the living room was the only indication he _hadn't _dreamed it all. He smothered a chuckle, and picked up a note from Rogue addressed to him.

"By the way, 'May the Force be With You' is from _Star Wars, _not _Star Trek._ Mocking someone generally works better if you have at least an idea what you're mocking. We'll just have to work on getting you up to speed. It'll be a tough job, but I guess someone has to do it…" The smile fled his face as he read Remy's contribution to the note: "Guess you didn't notice where Rogue slept last night, since you're not rampaging the grounds today. Oh—we took your bike, going to the City for the day. See you at dinnertime, _homme!"_

_"Gumbo! Where is that damned Cajun!"_

Just another normal day in Xavier's School for the Gifted…

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Hope you enjoyed it! Please read & review… thanks! –Alara


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